


The Washington Pamphlet

by Walkerbaby



Series: HAMILTON SHORT STORIES AND ONE SHOTS [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Canon Time Period, Historical Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkerbaby/pseuds/Walkerbaby
Summary: When faced with the choice of his own destruction or the destruction of the new United States and its first President, Alexander Hamilton will always choose his country over himself. Even if it breaks his heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And historical notes below in case you're interested. 
> 
> For the right joining in marriage is the work of the Lord only... we are but witnesses.
> 
> \- George Fox, 1669

“Is he in?”

He heard Alexander’s voice and his shoulders stiffened as he tried to stare down at the report that Thomas had left on his desk about the Jumon situation. It was a mess. Thomas, of course, thought that they should support the French Ambassador and throw their support behind the Revolution. Alexander thought they should hang the man as a spy and let the world know they wouldn’t be forced into every mob that decided to resort to violence.

He was inclined to agree with Alexander, but he knew that he couldn’t say that directly. Jumon was an ambassador and that gave him some measure of protection, even though George would like nothing more than to put a noose around the other man’s neck.

But Alexander was right, they were a nation of laws and when they fought their revolution they did it as gentlemen. They built a provisional government and put an army in the field. The French were a mob rampaging through the streets, trying to destroy everything in their path as they reveled in anarchy.

The door clicked open and he tried to keep his breathing steady, tried to ignore the way his stomach rolled as the other man stepped into his space. His toes curled in his shoes and his fingers tightened on the parchment as he forced himself to keep his eyes down, to keep the wanting he felt every time he saw Alexander buried down deep. He buried that wanting, that love, under memories of betrayal, of hurt, jealousy.

He chose her, George reminded himself. Chose her and not you. Even after he swore himself to you alone.

He heard the door click closed and then it was just the sound of them breathing together in this room.

“George?” Alexander’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Mr. Hamilton.” He didn’t look up-- couldn’t look up. “How may I assist you this evening?”

“Geo-rge.” Alexander’s voice broke on his name and George couldn’t help looking up.

His heart stared at him, anguish radiating from his very being. His hair was disheveled and there were dark circles under his eyes. The bones of his cheeks seemed to be poking out of his face. Alexander wasn’t eating as he should, wasn’t sleeping. He looked almost as ravaged as he’d been that horrible winter they’d shared in Valley Forge.

George had promised himself that Alexander would never look like that again. He’d sworn that once the war was over he’d never let his darling Alexander suffer again. He’d sworn to God that if he allowed them to triumph, allowed him to keep Alexander alive, that George would devote himself to proving that he deserved a love like Alexander.

“It is late,” Alexander whispered. “Almost nine.”

“I have much to do,” George said, forcing his eyes back to the paper. “This country will not run itself.”

“It will not fall apart if you leave these things for the morning. For Monday even.”

“Mr. Hamilton, as I’m sure you’re aware—”

“George, please,” Alexander said, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Please, my love.”

He looked up then, startled. Even when they had been in accord it was something they had kept discreet; something that they were careful not to discuss in public. What they were was illegal after all. A mortal sin. If they were found out they would be ruined.

“Do not call me that,” George said, trying to keep his reserve. “Not here. Not anywhere, Alexander.”

“I sent Mr. Williams home,” Alexander persisted. “It is just us.”

“I don’t care that you have sent my personal secretary away,” George retorted-- jealousy and hurt clawing in his stomach, warring with the part of him that wanted to wrap the other man in his arms. “Do not try to trick me with honeyed words, Alexander. I have not the will to suffer such indignities from you.”

The younger man hurried around the desk and George stared as he dropped to his knees, burying his head against George’s thigh. “Please.”

“Get up.”

“Forgive me,” Alexander whispered, not moving. “Please, I made a mistake, forgive me.”

“It was not a mistake,” George said, staring down at the other man’s bent head. “You swore to me that it was done. That the two of you were done. When we agreed that the past was behind us and that we would begin again, you swore that there would be no other.”

“I…”

“I told you I would not share you,” George whispered. “That I would rather have nothing but the memory of you to take with me to my grave than to feel your touch again and know that you were sharing it with another as well. That you were sharing it with her.”

“I’m sorry. I was—”

“You knew that when this began between us again that it would be cobbled together. It could not be like it was during the war. You could not share my bed each night but we would cobble nights together in our home when we could. You promised that it was enough for you.”

“It is.” Alexander stared up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. “It is enough George.”

“It wasn’t. I found us a home and listened to you whisper your blasphemies in my ear again, repeated them again, even though I knew that any absolution I may have gained in the years we were apart disappeared the minute those words left my lips, and six months later I am facing your wife and a swollen belly across my dinner table.”

“I had a dream—”

“A dream?” George scoffed. “A dream that told you it was not enough to be a bigamist in name but you must be one in deed as well?”

“I dreamed of Brandywine,” Alexander said, his voice barely more than a sob.

George froze, staring down at the other man.

They didn’t talk about Brandywine; hadn’t spoken of it since Alexander made his way back into camp three days after George had thought him lost and been prepared to drink himself to death. Alexander had never wanted to talk about Brandywine and the things that had happened when he’d been caught behind enemy lines. He had given George a summary report upon his return and they had never spoken of it again.

“I dreamed that they caught me that day,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against George’s thigh again. “I dreamed they pulled me from the river and took me into the town in chains and I knew that I would die. I knew they would hang me and I wasn’t afraid. I was never afraid to die for my country. For my men. For you.” Alexander’s breath escaped him in a sob. “And they took me to the noose and I wasn’t afraid. I was sad. I was so sad because we would be apart but I knew that it would be okay. I would go to my rest and soon enough you would join me and we would be together again and nothing would tear us apart. And then, as they made me stand on that wagon and put the noose around my neck, I looked out into the crowd and I saw you.”

“Alexander,” George whispered, putting his hand on the other man’s messy hair. “It was a—”

“I saw you in that crowd and I wanted to scream at you to go. All I wanted to do was tell you that it wasn’t safe, that they would catch you. And I was so afraid. I was so afraid that I would die and they would capture you and I would be unable to save you. I wasn’t afraid to die,” he whispered. “I was afraid of leaving you unprotected.”

“Ale—”

“And I woke up,” Alexander continued, not allowing George to console him. “And the war was over and I was alive and you were alive and all I could do was cry. I was sobbing so hard that I made myself physically ill. Eliza heard me from her room and she came to me and brought me water to rinse my mouth and wiped the sweat from my brow and…”

George combed his fingers through his lover’s hair.

“She was warm and she was alive and right then I needed to know that this world was real and not a dream that I had imagined in my cell as I waited for them to take me to the noose. I needed to know that this world was real and not the images of what might have been passing in front of my eyes as the horse pulled the wagon from beneath my feet.”

“Shhhh.” George continued to stroke his hair.

“I didn’t even think. She was there and she was warm and the next thing I remember was waking up in her bed the next morning and I knew that I had betrayed you. Betrayed my vows. Betrayed us. And I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you that I had been weak. We had just found our way back to each other and I didn’t want you to know that I was half the man I once was. A man who isn’t fit to love you.”

“Alexander,” George sighed. “You are not the only one who dreams of those dark days. All of your brothers in arms have things they saw that still haunt them, phantoms that come to them in dreams.”

“My brothers in arms do not break their wedding vows running from the phantoms of their past.”

“Alexander—”

“I haven’t touched her since. I told her…” Alexander laced his fingers through George’s and pulled their joined hands down so that he could kiss the back of George’s hand. “I told her that I had fallen in love with another. That I could not be a true husband to her. That I would not shame her by leaving her, that I would remain discreet in my affections and never sully her name in public with my misdeeds, but that I could be no more to her than a close friend, a brother. We sleep in separate rooms and keep separate lives. Everything you see between us is a pantomime of a marriage that we put on for the public.”

“Who?” George asked, his voice thick. “Who does she believe…”

“Angelica,” Alexander whispered. “Angelica was in the city and she was… Angelica. Forward. Flirtatious. She’s never hidden the fact that she didn’t see my marriage to her sister as an impediment to collecting me as a conquest.”

“I’m sure this visit was no different.”

“She took up with Burr,” Alexander whispered. “I agreed to rent her a love nest so that they could remain discreet. I left the paperwork on my desk where I knew Eliza would see it and…”

“Your wife believes that you are in love with her sister,” George said. “The sister she’s always suspected you preferred. That is a painful thing for a woman to bear.”

“Would it be less painful for her to know that I am in love with you?” Alexander asked, looking up at him. “That given the choice I would give up all of this to retire to a farm and be some sort of abomination of a sweet Quaker farm wife for you?”

“You have a bit too much facial hair for a pretty Quaker lass,” George said quietly and Alexander narrowed his eyes. “But I know what it is you wish to say.”

“Forgive me,” Alexander whispered.

“Always,” George replied, running his fingertips down Alexander’s cheek. “I’m sorry that you woke alone from such a dream. You know I would not—”

“I know.” Alexander pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I am married to you.”

“Alexander.” George felt his chest constrict.

“I am married to you George. I am married to you, only to you.”

“They are just words,” George whispered. “Just words that you say to—”

Instead of answering him, Alexander stood and straddled George’s lap, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck. He pressed their foreheads together, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “I am married to you, George, only to you. And even if the Quakers did not mean for their unions to be used for people such as us? There is nothing in their writings that forbid it.”

“They do not need to expressly forbid it,” George protested. “All good Christian men—”

“You said yourself that if God thought this was a sin he would not have made it feel like it did. That if this were nothing more than a deviance, a sickness, then we would feel nothing but lust. If God did not intend for us to feel like this, he would not have allowed us to love as I love you.”

“I was trying to get you to take your clothes off when I said such things,” George answered.

“I was already naked, in your bed, and well satiated when you said them,” Alexander countered. “And if the Quakers have not expressly forbidden our union then I believe logic suggests that perhaps the Quakers are wiser than most men give them credit for.”

“Alexander.”

“George.” His lover— his husband, George thought to himself— kissed him gently. “I am married to you.”

He closed his eyes and remembered the first time Alexander had whispered such words to him. His lover had been barely twenty-one years old and they’d slipped out of camp to rest on the side of a riverbank, hidden by wildflowers and enjoying a rare bit of peace in the warm spring sun. His lover had twined a wildflower around his ring finger and pressed kisses to his palm.

George would not tell him that the flower— long since dried— was pressed into the Bible he kept beside his bed, marking the passage in Solomon that he’d whispered into Alexander’s ear that day as they kissed and loved.

He’d lost his lover due to a silly argument, rash words that he’d wished he could unsay the moment they’d left his mouth. He’d lost him to Eliza Schuyler for a decade and when he finally found his love again it was like no time had passed. They were older and better fed but it was still Alexander in his arms. His lover had whispered those words to him again in a tiny upper room at the convention hall where he’d dragged George to kiss him again, unwilling to give up the feelings they’d shared the night before when they’d been rejoined.

He had never loved another like he did Alexander. He never could.

“I am married to you,” he whispered, his eyes closed and his hands clutching at his husband’s hips, pulling him close enough so that every part of them touched each other.

“I am married to you,” Alexander said and pressed another kiss to his lips.

“I am married to you,” George whispered.

“I am married to you,” Alexander sighed against his mouth.

“I am married to you,” George agreed.

Alexander pressed another kiss against his mouth. “How long will Martha be in Virginia?”

“She is taking an extended visit,” George answered. “Her niece is pregnant and she wants to stay close for the birth. She thinks she might be back at Christmastime.”

“Five months,” Alexander whispered. “Eliza has taken the children to Albany. I’ve urged her to make it a long visit. The air in Albany is far healthier than it is here and her mother doesn’t spend as much time with the children as she wants. I’ll offer to go to them over the Christmas recess.”

“And until then?” George asked.

“Until then I am your sweet Quaker love,” Alexander whispered. “And I long for you to take me back to our home and let me rub your shoulders and pour your wine and ease the cares of your day.”

“And when my shoulders have been rubbed and my wine has been drunk and my cares have eased?”

“Then I’ll lead you to my bed and spread my legs and remind you that no matter where we are, a palace or the meanest Army camp, I am content, for you are my home.”

“I would hardly call our little home a palace, my love.”

“If you are in it?” Alexander whispered, “then King George himself could not have a grander home. Now please, it’s been a three hundred and nine days since I felt your heart beating in time with mine, take me home and love me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to find me on Tumblr I'm there as @walkerbaby and I also post stuff @walkerstormfanworks where I collaborate with the brilliant @aidennestorm. I sometimes post teasers, one shots, headcanons and random bits about what the writer's life is like. 
> 
> Historical Notes: 1.) During the Revolution it was apparently quite the thing for young soldiers to "marry like Quakers" (you see Peggy Shippen instigating herself into a similar situation with Benjamin Andre in the AMC tv show Turn). It apparently involved convincing young women that simply saying "we're married" to each other was all it took and she should then, of course, lift her skirts before he goes off to possibly die for Cause and Country. Actual Quaker weddings? Are done in public and have more ceremony to them -- but they are done without an officiant. Here's a link if you want to know more: https://www.theknot.com/content/quaker-wedding-ceremony-rituals  
> 2.) While Colonial era Quakers were not publicly in favor of same sex unions neither was anyone else. There is nothing in Quaker theology that says same sex couples are committing a sin (Quakers aren't going to be getting up and yelling about Leviticus okay?). In fact, the Quaker faith publicly came out as allies of the LGBT+ community in the U.S. and in the U.K. in 1963 with the publication of "Toward a Quaker View of Sex" and actively campaigned to repeal criminal statutes against homosexuality and the doctrine of faith that the Quakers use as the foundation for their belief that all committed relationships are sacred regardless of race or gender? For the right joining in marriage is the work of the Lord only... we are but witnesses. George Fox, 1669  
> So yes, I'm taking liberties with Quaker history here but it can also be argued that Quakerism had a doctrine that supported same-sex union 100 years before Alexander Hamilton and George Washington would ever meet.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’ll get you some wine,” Alexander whispered as they slipped into their small townhouse, resisting the urge to press kisses into his husband’s shoulder. “Go into the study and take your coat off and I’ll bring you some wine.”

“I’m not sure that there is any wine—” George started as Alexander followed him inside the house and pressed the door closed behind them.

“I’ve made sure that at least some basic provisions were stocked,” Alexander said quietly. “Not much. We’ll need to do some marketing tomorrow morning, but I slipped out of the office today and bought some staples. Eggs, a bit of ham, some bread, wine, tea, the powder you prefer from the apothecary.”

He didn’t meet George’s eyes. It had been presumptuous of him to buy such things. It was true that he’d spent several nights here, alone, sleeping in their bed and missing George, and the staples could be explained away by that. All except George’s powder. It was presumptuous to assume that even though his love, his husband, had said that he’d forgiven Alexander… That didn’t mean he was ready to share a bedchamber with him again. That he would want…

He swallowed.

“Are you sure that is something you want tonight?” George asked quietly. “It is late and you have had a long day. And the powders from the apothecary…”

Alexander sighed in relief. As if he would ever be too tired for such things with George. As if he would lay his heart on the line to resolve their dispute and then refuse him when they reached their home. He glanced up and saw that George’s cheeks were pink.

He knew that his husband was still embarrassed about the need for such things. They’d been unnecessary during the war, and during their first brief reunions during the Convention it had either been unnecessary, or George had managed to fumble through enough, distracting Alexander and spoiling him with pleasure so that he wouldn’t notice that George’s own pleasure was limited.

When Alexander had finally realized the situation? He’d tried to explain that such things did not matter to him. It wasn’t uncommon for men to lose their virility when they were older and heaven forbid, even now George was more virile than most men Alexander’s age would be considering the stress of his work.

George had simply brushed his affirmations aside. It had taken Alexander visiting an apothecary and requesting something— claiming that his work was inhibiting his marriage— and George seeing that the apothecary hadn’t even blinked, just reached beneath his counter and handed Alexander a small paper package and told him to come back if he found he needed more.

Such things couldn’t be that uncommon, Alexander had argued once they were home again, if the apothecary simply kept it under the counter. And, while he agreed that George couldn’t be seen to be buying such things— especially when Martha wasn’t in Philadelphia— no one would bat an eye if Alexander were to buy it. Even Jefferson would agree that some things honorable men did not speak about in public— even to wound an enemy.

He’d finally convinced George to try the powders and it had surprised them both. Three hours later Alexander had been a sweating, bruised, exceptionally well loved mess as George collapsed, sweat soaked, beside him in their rumpled bed.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Alexander said as he leaned his head against his husband’s back, pressing his forehead between George’s shoulder blades. “We can love tonight and then sleep late tomorrow. When we wake we can love slow again, like we both enjoy, and then do the marketing.”

“Or we could send Billy Lee…”

“George,” Alexander whispered. “We agreed that we would not keep slaves here. Not even Billy Lee. I won’t use slave labor, won’t have it in the home we share.”

“But you hate marketing. And if we send Billy Lee then we’ll be able to stay in bed and—”

“I won’t taint myself in such a way just because I don’t wish to leave your bed,” Alexander answered, still pressing his head to George’s back. “I would rather go without food than—”

“All right,” George said as he turned and lifted Alexander’s chin. “All right. If we’re to stay here, just us, then I’ll write a note to Billy Lee in the morning. He has a woman he’s taken up with here in Philadelphia. I’ll let him know that— as long as he makes himself available to me each day in case I need him for something— he is free to stay with her until Martha returns.”

“Thank you.” Alexander whispered as he lifted on his toes and pressed his lips to his husband’s.

“My soft hearted Quaker abolitionist,” George said as he pulled away. “Next you’ll make me abstain from wine and renounce your military career.”

“Never.” Alexander grinned as he stepped out of George’s arms. “I’ve become quite fond of your brandy and I shall always cherish my military career.”

“Will you?” George asked, as he followed Alexander further into their tiny home. “Why is that?”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled at his husband. “Without my time in the Army,” Alexander said softly. “I would not have found you. Now, into the parlor and take your coat off. I’ll get you some wine and come rub your neck and shoulders before bed.”

He left his husband at the door to the parlor and made his way to the small kitchen at the back of the house. There he retrieved one of the bottles of brandy he’d had delivered today and a glass. He slipped two granules of George’s powder into the glass and filled it the rest of the way with brandy, swirling it gently to help the herb dissolve.

He grabbed the bottle and hurried back into the parlor. He set the bottle on the table next to George’s chair and gave his husband the glass. “Let me help you with your shoes,” he said as he knelt at George’s feet.

“Alexander that’s…”

“Shush,” Alexander said as he reached for George’s right shoe and removed it, before peeling down his stocking and removing it as well. “You know these infernal heels do nothing for your feet. It would be better if you were wearing riding boots, at least then your feet and ankles wouldn’t swell.”

“You make me sound as though I’m ready for the grave,” George muttered above him.

Alexander pressed a quick kiss to his knee and reached for his other shoe. “Hardly the grave, and it is not your fault that you were thrown how many times from your horse all those years ago? And none were allowed to heal properly.”

“The war would not stop so that I could lay about,” George protested.

“Hush.” Alexander kissed his knee again as he divested George of shoe and stocking. “I know that. I also know that the comfort of your feet is another sacrifice you made for this country that will go unrecognized by its people. Now, let me rub your feet so they do not swell in the night.”

He began working his thumbs into the heavy calluses on George’s heels and felt his husband relax into his touch. “It feels nice doesn’t it?”

“I can think of things that might feel nicer,” George said, his voice low.

“We’ll get those once you’ve drank your wine.” Alexander continued to massage George’s feet and ankles, his head resting against the other man’s thigh.

“My little Quaker wife has turned bossy,” George chuckled.

“It is not a new character trait,” Alexander retorted as he tickled the bottom of George’s— very sensitive— left foot. “And if you do not behave you’ll drink your wine and then go to bed alone.”

“And what would be the fun in that?” George asked as he plucked at Alexander’s coat. “Come here.”

“George.” He glanced up at his lover. “Finish your wine.”

His husband picked up the glass and drained it before setting the glass on the table again. “Now, come here. Or else I shall be forced to pick you up, put you over my shoulder, and carry you to bed. Then I’ll put my back out and you’ll have an elderly husband with an aching cock and the inability to pleasure you.”

“I’m sure I could find a way to make sure we were both satisfied.”

“Or you could come here,” George said as he plucked at his coat again. “And when we retire upstairs we can resume our quest to find the position that pleases you the most.”

Alexander swallowed.

It had been a surprise. The herb had stifled George’s ability to release, but not that pleasure that preceded it. He’d been certain that he was ready to finish and then his passion would surge again. So, each time they’d shifted positions. From kneeling to sitting to reclined, from front to back and then switched again.

And it had been almost a year since they’d been intimate. Three hundred and twenty six days since he’d been loved properly.

He put his husband’s foot down on the floor and scrambled into George’s lap, straddling him as he had in George’s office.

“You.” George smiled at him. “Are wearing entirely too many clothes for what I want to do to you.”

He pushed his jacket off and tossed it across the room, in the general direction of the settee. He reached for his cravat and began to fumble with it.

“Here now.” George’s fingers captured his own. “Let me. I’ve dreamed about this so many times. Unwrapping your skin and peeling it free. You are exquisite Alexander, a precious gift, unwrapping you should not be rushed.”

He let his hands fall to his lover’s shoulders as George undid his cravat and pulled it away from his neck. George unbuttoned his vest and skimmed it away from his body, tossing it aside. The older man’s lips pressed against his throat as he undid the laces at the front of Alexander’s shirt and pulled it free from his breeches. He pulled the shirt off Alexander, making him lift his arms like a small child.

When his chest was exposed, George pulled him closer, licking around his nipple and making Alexander squirm against the rock hard length beneath him. George fumbled open the buttons on Alexander’s breeches and soon his hand was inside Alexander’s smalls, teasing his already aching length.

“Mmmm.” George raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone is eager.”

“Always,” he moaned as George switched from his left nipple to his right, licking and teasing, as his hands tightened on Alexander’s hips, grinding their bodies together.

“Alexander,” George purred against his skin. “We should go upstairs before I lose my self control.”

“What if I want you to lose your self control?”

“Then.” George bit down on his nipple and Alexander moaned, his voice low and wanton. “You shall found yourself bent over, with nothing but your elbows on this poor, rickety table, while I ease you open with my tongue.”

“That does not—”

“And then, because I have no resilience when I am faced with the beauty of your skin, you’ll find yourself being plundered with nothing but spit and your own bravery to ease my way.”

He whimpered as George’s thumbs began to rub on his hip bones and, at this second, Alexander wasn’t sure he was opposed to such goings on. To be bruised and violated in such a way would be painful, but for days it would be apparent to all who saw him that someone had claimed Alexander. A brand upon his skin that let the world know he was loved by George.

“Upstairs.” George pushed him— gently— off his lap and helped him to stand.

Alexander reached for his cravat.

“Leave it. We’ll retrieve such things in the morning. It’s not as if anyone will see that we’ve left your clothing in disarray.”

“Yes, George.” He smiled as his lover took his hand and pulled himself up, wrapping his arms around Alexander.

“You can be tidy in the morning,” George teased. “Tonight I have need of you.”

“Mmmm.” He smiled as he ground his hips against his husband’s hard length. “I have need of you as well.”

“Upstairs,” George whispered.

“I love you,” Alexander said, pressing a kiss to George’s lips.

“And I love you,” George agreed. “But you are thirty seconds from finding yourself over that tiny table, Alexander. So I suggest you stop distracting me and get upstairs.”

“Yes, George,” Alexander said as he took his husband’s hand and began to lead him toward the stairs.

Tonight they would indulge each other in love play and by morning the distance that still remained between them would disappear. By the dawn they would be George and Alexander again and neither of them would speak of Martha or Eliza again until the summer had passed and the leaves had left the trees and they were staring down the bleakness of winter.

Between now and Christmastime they would stay in their small home and love and live and no one would intrude upon the small slivers of happiness they would be blessed enough to steal away from the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know where to find me. 
> 
> Historic Notes:  
> 1.) There were a stunningly large variety of male "marital aids" in the marketplace in the Colonial era. We also know that George Washington ordered a large quantity of Spanish Fly before his wedding to Martha Custis so we can say with pretty good historical accuracy that our first President? He didn't mind a little chemical help to keep the fun going.  
> 2.) The city of Philadelphia was filled with free people of color in the colonial era (the Commonwealth of PA had some interesting rules about slavery and there are tons of books available). While George Washington historically did not allow his slaves to mingle with these free African Americans some slave owners did, even allowing them to marry free citizenry and purchase their freedom. A good historical look at the Philadelphia free African American community can be found in the book Uncaught. Or if you prefer fiction -- The Whisky Rebels by Charles Liss also covers the topic.


	3. Chapter 3

He felt sunlight tickling his eyelids and buried his head in Alexander’s shoulder.

His love snuffled into the pillow and pressed his hips back, rubbing his arse against George’s once again eager cock.

He fought the urge to groan at the pleasure. It was…

He swallowed.

It still shamed him, the need for such things, he was an old man who needed medication to rouse him. By the time a man had reached this stage he was supposed to be married to a plump, old woman— a grandmother who had years earlier lost her desire to be bothered by such things. He was supposed to see this as a natural progression. One that shouldn’t plague him. A reprieve for his poor wife if nothing else.

Except George’s love was not a plump grandmother of a wife. George’s love was a fiery, spirited man who wasn’t yet forty and needed a firm hand in his work and a thorough loving each night to keep him from flying into a dozen different directions.

That George needed help to give him such things? It shamed him. Even though Alexander had teased last night that if George would have gotten such powders years earlier? He’d have gotten his fondest wish during the war because Alexander would have been quite incapable of going into battle after a night in their bed.

Alexander shifted again, pressing back.

George leaned over to press a kiss against the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Stop that,” he whispered softly. “Otherwise you’ll get no more rest this morning.”

“Mmmm.” Alexander pressed back again, deliberately grinding down on George’s cock, and letting out a breathy moan. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” George shifted his hips forward, bringing their bodies tightly together and letting his cock settle into the cleft of Alexander’s arse. He wrapped his arms around his love’s waist to hold him in place and began to plant soft kisses along his neck. “My love.”

Alexander squirmed and George loosened his grip.

Alexander rolled over so that he was facing George and pressed their bodies together, wrapping his arms around George’s neck. “I love you.” He kissed George gently. “My dearest George.”

Alexander tugged at his neck, urging him forward as Alexander rolled onto his back, opening his legs. “Come here.”

“We don’t need—” George swallowed as Alexander urged him over. “It will subside if—”

Alexander let go of him with one hand and grabbed a pillow, sliding it under his hips. He wrapped his legs around George’s waist.

“I would not hurt you,” George whispered. “I know you are sore from our loving last night and—”

“I have missed this soreness,” Alexander answered. “Missed the knowledge that such aches are the result of your touch.”

“You are sore enough,” George protested. “If you insist upon—”

“The aches you speak of?” Alexander tightened his thighs around George’s body. “They are the faintest hint of bitterness that comes from the sweetness of being joined as we are meant to be. The aches fade quickly but the sweetness of being joined with you? It makes the moments when we are not in this bed more bearable.”

“All right,” George whispered, prying Alexander’s legs loose enough so that he could position himself. “But if you are too sore—”

“I’ll say.” Alexander smiled up at him, his eyes wide and his heart apparent in his face.

George probed at Alexander’s body and found it still slick and stretched. He pushed himself forward— slowly— groaning as Alexander’s body opened to him. “You feel…”

“Wonderful,” Alexander sighed as George seated himself fully. “It is Heaven. You are Heaven to me.”

“Blasphemous little Quaker,” George said softly as he manuevered Alexander’s legs free of his hips and lifted them onto his shoulders, shifting Alexander into a position he knew brought Alexander to the heights of pleasure. He pressed a kiss to Alexander’s left ankle. “You should be ashamed to say such things.”

“But I am not,” Alexander whispered as George began to thrust, slowly, still pressing kisses to his ankles, nipping at the sensitive skin at the top of his feet. He shifted Alexander slightly more, moving him so that his legs were almost touching and his hips were raised off the pillow.

“Get another pillow,” George whispered.

He felt Alexander tensing and releasing, the movements of his body massaging George’s aching cock as he pulled the pillow from beneath his head and shoved it toward his hips.

George let go of his legs with one hand and stuffed it under Alexander’s arse. “Much better.” He thrust forward again and a moan tore from Alexander’s throat. He looked down and saw fluid leaking from his husband’s swollen cock. Thrust again and smiled as Alexander whimpered. “There?”

“Yes.” His love stared at him wide eyed, just as beautiful as he’d been the first time George had him in his bed all those years ago. His darling hadn’t changed since then. Still a wild creature that George had managed to lure into his tent. A changeling with his too big eyes and his berry lips. A selkie perhaps. Nimble and sleek, his hair like the finest pelt.

He’d teased Alexander once that his lover needed to take him to his coat so that George could burn it. Burying would not be enough. He would burn the boy’s selkie coat and trap him on land forever. Alexander had laughed then and asked why he would ever wish to leave when he could stay and be loved by George instead? He’d twined a wildflower around George’s finger and whispered sweet promises in his ear.

“I love you,” Alexander panted beneath him as George thrust. “My George. I love you so much.”

“I love you,” George kissed his ankle again and continued to thrust, gliding their bodies together and apart. “My beautiful selkie. Never leave me again. Never leave my bed cold. No one will love you like I do. Not the sea. Not—” His voice cracked.

“Shhh.” Alexander stared up at him. “Shhh. I’m here George. I’m yours. Your husband. We won’t be separated again. I’ll die before I do you such harm again.”

“I—” George could feel his pleasure building. His chest was tight and his balls ached and he knew that it would not be long. He pushed again and felt Alexander shudder. “Touch yourself. Touch yourself for me Alexander so that I can see you find your bliss before I lose myself in the paradise that is your embrace.”

His lover wrapped a hand around his cock and George swallowed, still awed by the beauty of his love as Alexander began to fall apart in his arms. He angled his hips and continued thrusting, making sure to stroke the spots inside Alexander that brought him the most pleasure.

“I love you,” Alexander mewled.

“I—”

There was a sharp rap on the door and George froze. No one was supposed to know of this place. It was their secret. Their hideaway from the world.

“It is a mistaken address,” Alexander whispered. “If we don’t answer they will go away.”

Whoever it was rapped louder this time. A metal cane head against the door. “Open up you cur!” A familiar voice yelled.

George pulled free of Alexander and grabbed his shirt, tugging it on as he moved across the hall to the empty bedchamber at the front of the house and stared out the window.

Jefferson? Why would the man come here? Didn’t he have better things to do on a Sunday morning than disturb George at a hideaway he wasn’t supposed to know existed? And how had he found out?

George would talk to Billy Lee about giving out the particulars of his Master’s private business sure enough. He’d remind the man that discretion was an agreement they’d both agreed to. Billy Lee said nothing of Alexander and George? George did not mention the woman in Philadelphia to the woman Billy Lee kept at home in Virginia.

He stalked back into the bedroom as Jefferson rapped on the door again.

“What?” Alexander was leaning up on his elbows now. “What is going on?”

“Jefferson is here.” He jerked on his breeches and debated hose. No. He wasn’t going to fully dress just to send the other man on his way. Especially with the abuse that Jefferson had just shouted.

“Jefferson?” Alexander’s eyes went wide. “But—”

“Stay here,” George ordered. “Stay quiet. I’ll send him away and be back upstairs before you can grow lonely.”

“Be—” Alexander swallowed. “Be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” George whispered. “Just… stay quiet Alexander. I’ll protect you.”

He left the room, closing the door, and stomped down the stairs toward the front door. He jerked it open just as Jefferson raised his cane to rap again.

“I knew that you were—” The other man’s eyes widened as his cane fell. “Mr. President?”

“What are you doing here, Thomas, making a scene upon the doorstep?”

“This is… What are you doing here, Sir?” Jefferson swallowed. “This is… I mean, you were not who I expected to…”

“I am entertaining,” George said through gritted teeth. “Privately.”

“But Mr. Burr told us that this house was leased to Mr. Hamilton.”

“It is,” George said. “He is gentleman enough to understand that sometimes, discretion of a sort is essential for a man in my position. Now go away. Before the lady in question begins to feel neglected.”

A throat cleared and George saw Madison standing at the bottom of the steps, off to the side, with Aaron Burr. “We saw Alexander Hamilton come into this residence last night.”

“It was a ruse,” George snapped. He came in through the front, while I—”

“Came in alongside him,” Burr said quietly.

Jefferson and Madison turned to stare at him, mouths gaping open.

“And Mr. Hamilton did not leave last night.” Burr glared at him. “Just like the many nights he did not leave your tent.”

“I do not know what you are suggesting Mr. Burr-” He stared.

“I am suggesting that your reluctance to prosecute men caught in moral— and mortal— abberation during the war was because you were committing such sins yourself with Mr. Hamilton while he was your aide de camp.”

“I…” Jefferson stared between Burr and Washington, his eyes wide and his curls flying as his head snapped first one way and then the next. “Mr. President?”

“I was loathe to prosecute such crimes,” George snapped. “Because we were short on fighting men and I do not believe it is my place to decide the morality of how men facing possible death choose to seek their comfort. I have outgrown my adolescent lust to peep through knots in the wood of people’s homes with my hands in my breeches. Unlike some young men who seemed obsessed with such things in my command.”

“If you enter the residence then I believe you’ll find Mr. Hamilton inside,” Burr said, nonplussed. “Not a doxy as the President has suggested.”

He instinctively brought his arm up to block the door and knew, instantly, that it was a mistake.

Jefferson’s eyes widened slightly as he took in George’s defensive posture and then narrowed again as the situation— and its implications— crystallized in his head. “Step aside Mr. President.”

“This is private property and—”

“It is not your private property,” Jefferson said. “It is leased to Mr. Hamilton. And even if it were your home, it would be a simple enough matter to go for a constable. The Moral Offenses Act allows a constable to enter any premise where immoral conduct is taking place.”

“That is a law regarding houses of ill repute,” George snapped. “Are you truly suggesting that Mr. Hamilton is running a… a… brothel? Here?”

“Madison,” Jefferson said. “Go for the constable on the next street.”

George stared at the curly haired serpent in front of him, watching as his life— his legacy— crumbled before him.

He’d be forced to resign. He’d be lucky to bribe the other men to allow him and Alexander to slink away without rumors following them. If word of this affair were leaked? Scandal. Arrest. No one would help them. No one would show them the loyalty they deserved.

Definitely not Philadelphia society. Or New York society for that matter.

If Jefferson forced this into the public by calling a constable there was no way they’d escape Philadelphia with their backs in tact. They’d be lucky if they weren’t unmanned as well.

“Come in.” He moved out of the way. “But Gentlemen, I would have your words that whatever arrangement we reach? This matter will be kept silent.”

“Understood.” Jefferson nodded briskly as he stepped inside.

“Madison,” Jefferson said, not breaking eye contact. “Go retrieve Mr. Hamilton. Tell him we’d see him immediately. The President and I will be in the parlor, discussing the transfer of power between his administration and mine.”

“And what would you have me do Thomas?” Burr asked as he followed them inside.

“You can wait in the hall,” Jefferson muttered over his shoulder. “Leave this to the grownups Burr.”


	4. Chapter 4

He heard shoes on the stairs and knew immediately it wasn’t George. George had been bare foot when he’d gone downstairs. His stomach sank and Alexander began to evaluate his options. The room had no closets and the wardrobe was too small even for him. They’d furnished their home simply. A bed, a washstand, and mirror. A small wardrobe to store their few extra changes of clothes.

“A simple Quaker home for my pretty Quaker bride,” George had teased when the furniture had been delivered.

Alexander had simply rolled his eyes. He didn’t think the Quakers necessarily had bad ideas— they just weren’t his ideas. But he knew George loved to tease him about it. Had teased him for years about being George’s Quaker bride. And Alexander? He’d accepted the teasing because at the end of the day, when the jokes were done, George was still his love and their promises to each other were real— even if the law didn’t see them as such.

There was a sharp rap on the bedroom door and he tried to silence his breathing.

“Mr. Hamilton.” Madison’s voice startled him. Why was Madison here? And how did he know that Alexander was in George’s bedroom?

Jefferson.

Madison was never far from Jefferson. They spent more time together than most courting couples.

They must have been spying on them. Paying someone to spy.

He’d known that Jefferson wanted him out of the government but he never expected the other man to do such a thing as this.

“Alexander.” James’ voice was low. “Please don’t make me come in there and see your shame.”

He swallowed.

“Just…” James’ voice trailed off. “Get dressed and come out.”

Alexander glanced around the room. Most of his clothing was still scattered across the parlor.

God.

The parlor.

There was no way anyone would be able to set foot in that parlor and not know that a seduction had taken place there last night with Alexander’s clothes scattered about.

He slipped from the bed and made his way to the wardrobe. He had a pair of old clothes stashed here from when they’d worked in their small, walled, back garden together. George had put in tulips that Alexander had bought him in New York. They’d added a rose bush near the door.

He pulled on a dingy, once lawn colored shirt and then a pair of brown breeches that were a bit too tight in the hips. He slipped into patched brown stockings and looked about for shoes. His good shoes were downstairs and his work boots were near the kitchen door. He retrieved a pair of blue felted slippers and put them on.

He didn’t bother with a cravat or tying back his hair.

He opened the door and saw Madison staring at the floor. “James.”

“Alexander.” Madison didn’t meet his eyes.

“Might I ask why you’re disturbing—”

“Why couldn’t you have just had a doxy here?” James whispered. “A loose woman from the free population? Wouldn’t that have been enough? Why did you have to do such a thing? Such a scandal? You’ll ruin him. The President.”

He stared at the other man, unsure what to say. “I love him. I thought you of all people—”

“You couldn’t hide it?” James whispered, glancing over his shoulder. “Push it down into your stomach? Ignore it? Just because you feel such things doesn’t mean that you must be a beast and act upon them.”

“Has that made you happy?” Alexander asked, respecting the other man’s privacy enough to keep his voice low. “Following him everywhere? Staring at him with your heart in your eyes, watching as he flits from woman to woman? Doing his bidding, pushing his bills through Congress— even when you don’t believe in his misguided principals?”

“Stop,” James growled, glaring at him. “Just stop Alexander. You may not agree with what I do but at least I am safe. My career. My legacy. My very life is still safe. You? You’ll be lucky if you don’t bring the entire government down around your ears because you could not control your wants.”

The other man turned and stormed toward the stairs, leaving Alexander to follow behind.

When they reached the first floor he saw Burr lurking outside the parlor door, a sour look on his face.

“You.” Alexander glared at him. “This is all your doing Aaron.”

“I am not the one who led the leader of our country into mortal sin,” Burr said, sneering at Alexander. “I am not the one who would birth our new country in a bed of mortal sin and moral depravity.”

“For all my sins,” Alexander snapped. “At least I’m not a man who makes a practice of foisting my bastards into married men’s beds. Although I must admit, it was so very lucky for you, that Lady Prevost’s husband did you the favor of getting himself killed so that you could begin setting up the nursery together.”

“I—”

“Or are we all still agreeing to the polite fiction that Theodosia— unlike every other woman on Earth— only needs four months to grow your child?”

Burr lunged and Alexander was ready for him. He wasn’t one to submit peacefully to slurs on his character.

He’d been willing to give everything for his country. And his husband? George was a hero several times over. He was the man who held them together when outside forces would have torn them asunder. He wouldn’t allow Burr to speak such things about George without retribution.

They had given everything for this country and he wouldn’t allow Burr to make it seem as though George’s sacrifices were worth nothing.

Madison stepped between them, pushing Alexander behind his back as he turned to stare at Burr. “Aaron, is this truly necessary?”

“He’s—”

“Thomas will deal with them.” Madison stepped backward, pushing Alexander toward the study door. “Now, stay here.”

He turned to Alexander. “And you. Can we not behave like gentlemen with each other?”

“Is it common for gentlemen in Virginia to burst into someone’s private residence and threaten them?”

“In Virginia, we know to be discreet. Taking a house in the city together— that’s not discreet.”

James pushed the door to the study open and urged Alexander into the room. George was at the fireplace, his head in his hands on the mantel and Jefferson was in the middle of the room, his eyes on the clothes strewn about.

“God save us,” Jefferson breathed. “I thought… I’d hoped… Even now…”

George turned to stare at him and Alexander could see the anguish on his face.

“How much will it cost?” Alexander asked.

“What?” Jefferson stared at him, his eyes wide and his mouth open. “Cost?”

“Let’s not act like naive belles,” Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. “This is your attempt at blackmail. Now, tell us what your terms are and let’s negotiate.”

“Mr. Hamilton.” Jefferson pressed a hand to the ruffles in his cravat. “I’m insulted that you would think such a thing about me. I’m standing here, not as a man looking for personal enrichment, but as a concerned member of the government. A lawmaker. A watchdog of the government determined that we be a body that deserves our citizens’ trust.”

Alexander stared at him, not moving. It was an act and they all knew it.

“Thomas…” George whispered. “We’ve known each other for how many years?”

Jefferson turned away from Alexander and toward George. “Have we really known each other? If I had known that you were… this… This aberration… Do you really think I would have supported allowing you control of our troops? That I would have allowed you to prey on the young men who were determined to free us from the shackles of King George?”

“I would never—” George gaped at him.

“Are you suggesting that this unnatural relationship between you and Mr. Hamilton only started after the war?”

“I—” George stared between them, his eyes wide.

“I seduced him,” Alexander said quickly, not meeting his husband’s eyes. “It wasn’t him. He’s not…”

Jefferson turned back to him and he could see George’s anguish.

“That’s not—” George started.

“It was during Valley Forge. I used a potion.”

“A potion?” Jefferson asked incredulously.

“Surely, having been in Paris, you know that apothecaries can make all sorts of potions and tinctures to make people feel all sorts of things. I bought one that would make the General desire me and I slipped it into his brandy. Then, once he was inebriated, I forced myself on him. He was so drunk and drug-befuddled that he couldn’t tell the difference between me and a camp whore. He was so drunk he joked that he couldn’t find my breasts.”

“That’s—” George protested the lie.

“When he woke the next morning,” Alexander said, hurrying his words, “I blackmailed him. Threatened him. I told him that if he discarded me that I would tell people what happened between us and he’d be ruined. Then I kept feeding him the potion and soon enough the drugs convinced him that he was in love with him. But it was all a trick.”

“A trick?” Jefferson raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“If he really had loved me,” Alexander said, not meeting George’s eyes, “why would he go back to Virginia after the war instead of coming to New York searching for me?”

He heard George’s sharp intake of breath. It was the one thing they’d never spoken of. The one hurt that neither had been willing to breech. George did not talk about how Alexander had betrayed him by marrying another and why George had not following all of his instincts at stopped him.

“If you loved someone— truly loved them—” Alexander kept his eyes focused on Jefferson’s. “Would you just let them walk away and marry someone else? Think Thomas. Think about your Martha. Would you have let her walk away from you?”

“Don’t speak about my wife,” Jefferson snapped. “Do not tarnish her memory by comparing yourself to her.”

“You loved your wife,” Alexander persisted.

“Of course I did.”

“Would you have let her walk away from you and never once tried to find her?”

Jefferson stared at him.

“It was the drugs clouding his mind. I lured George into my bed and kept him there with threats and powders from the apothecary and when the war was over he ran as far and as fast from me as he could.”

“And now?”

“And now?” Alexander sighed. “Do you think you’re the only man who knows how to use his illicit and scandalous knowledge for a chance at power? As you’ve said yourself, I have no loyalty to this country. I never wanted us to be a country. This democracy you laud so highly? It’s a farce. I wanted George to be king and then take my rightful place as the power behind his throne. The dirty secret that could end it all if I wasn’t handled very, very carefully.

“We aren’t together because of love Thomas. George beds me to keep my quiet and I bed him to scratch an itch my wife cannot manage and to keep control of the government. It is the secret you’ve always suspected I hold over him.”

“I…” Jefferson swallowed.

He turned to George. “It’s obvious that we cannot allow this situation to continue.”

“So you’ll destroy the country by sinking us into scandal?” Alexander asked.

“No.” Jefferson didn’t even turn to look at him. “We cannot do that. If the public finds out about this there will be riots. They’ll turn on us as the peasants have turned on their leaders in France.

“It is obvious,” Thomas continued. “That you, Mr. President, cannot be forced from office until your term is completed. But at the same time, you are not fit to lead. While you’ll remain in the role ceremonially the decision making power of the office can no longer be yours.”

“And who will take it on?” Alexander asked. “Will you bring Vice President Adams into this endeavor?”

“No.” Thomas shuddered. “Not Adams. He’s unreliable. Madison and I will arrange things. He controls the House and Monroe is a leader in the Senate. Since I am your Secretary of State it will not seem strange if the three of us were to meet with you at the start of each day.”

“And I’ll resign of course.” Alexander swallowed. “You’ll expect me to resign of course.”

“No.” Jefferson turned to him. “Not yet. You’ll continue on in your role until the end of the President’s term. In that time you’ll convince your followers to support my ideas and merge with my own party. You’ll also train your replacement. Someone I choose. Then you’ll retire when the President does. We can’t risk people asking questions about why you’ve left your position as Secretary of the Treasury, especially since everyone knows that you and the President are fond of each other— even if they don’t know how fond.”

“Fine.”

“Alexander.” George stared at him. “Don’t—”

“And I’ll want your agreement, in writing, that you’ll retire from public life,” Jefferson continued. “You’ll never run for political office again. You’ll never take part in campaigning. You’ll live your life as a quiet, private citizen.”

“Agreed.” Alexander didn’t even blink. Whatever it took to keep George safe? It would be worth it.

“In New York.”

“What?” He said at the same time as George jolted, his eyes wide.

“If there really is nothing between the two of you but an unnatural— physical— lust then it will not upset you that you’ll move back to New York while the President returns to his loving wife and family in Virginia.”

“You go too far Thomas,” George warned.

“Most decent men and women would say I’m not going far enough,” Jefferson said. “After all, neither of you are being sent to prison, like the law demands.”

“Fine.” Alexander shook his head. “I’ll return to New York. To my wife and family.” He glanced up at George and could feel his heart breaking. His husband. He’d give everything to keep George safe. Would give it a thousand times over.

“Good.” Thomas stared at him. “Collect up your things.”

“What?” Alexander stared at him.

“You cannot think, as God-fearing men, that we can leave here without you, knowing the depravity that would take place. No, for the good of the President we must make decisions while he is so obviously incapable of good judgment. You two will only see each other in supervised settings. Never alone. We’ll arrange for an honor guard to protect the President and you? I have a man who can keep an eye on you Mr. Hamilton to make sure you don’t try anything you shouldn’t.”

He could feel tears building in his eyes. “Fine.” He sniffed, fixing his gaze on the ground. “Just… give us a moment.”

“I think—” Jefferson started.

“Thomas,” George’s voice was hoarse and broken. “You have taken everything else, at least give us the decency of some privacy for our final goodbyes.”

“Fine.” Jefferson didn’t meet their eyes as he made his way to the door. “Five minutes. Then Burr and Madison can return Mr. Hamilton to his family home and I’ll escort you back to the residence Mr. President.”

He opened the door and stalked out of it, snapping it closed behind him.

“What were you thinking?” George grabbed Alexander and pulled him into his arms. “You foolish, misguided…”

Alexander sighed as George pressed their foreheads together. “I couldn’t let him ruin you. Not over me.”

“I don’t care,” George whispered. “He could have announced it to the world and I wouldn’t care Alexander. I’d have resigned and packed two horses with just what we needed and we could have left. We would just go away. Go west.”

“They would find out. The news would spread. There was nowhere that either of us would ever be safe again. You wouldn’t have been safe.”

“Alexander.”

He pressed his lips to George’s to silence him. He pulled away and stared up at his love. “No matter what happens? You are the only person I have ever truly loved. You are my husband and every moment we are apart— even if it’s for the rest of my life— my heart will be waiting for you.”

He turned on his heel, leaving his clothes scattered about and started for the door.

He heard George sob behind him and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

He didn’t turn.

He couldn’t.

If he turned there was no way he would ever be able to leave. Not with his dignity in tact.


	5. Chapter 5

He slunk into his office on Monday morning, his eyes red and scratchy. His hair disheveled. He hadn’t slept the night before. He’d been trapped in the home he shared with Eliza, pacing.

He should have never tried to reconcile with George. It was foolish. A risk.

He’d been so foolish.

Men like Alexander didn’t get happily ever after.

He knew that.

He’d known it the first time he’d seen General Washington. The first time he’d felt his heart thud in his chest as the man put his hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

Men like him did not get an ending from a fairytale.

He’d told himself that again that first night together in Morristown. General Washington had pressed his lips to Alexander’s and even though his heart had soared his mind had told him it would end badly.

Men like them…

When Martha had confronted George in camp that summer he’d known it was the end. Alexander was an amusement, a folly, something to get George through the war. Martha was his wife and no matter what they said to each other, that would never change. For all his promises George would never walk away from her.

They didn’t get happily ever after.

He’d banished himself from George’s bed. Married Eliza.

George had come to him and gotten on his knees and begged the night before the wedding. They’d both cried and ended up kneeling in the dirt, broken, and he’d still torn his own heart out and refused George.

Because men like Alexander didn’t deserve a happy ending.

He should have known better than to go to him last night. Should have known not to reach for the love he knew that he couldn’t have.

“Alexander.”

He startled as he heard Burr’s voice behind him. What was the man doing here so early? It wasn’t even dawn yet and none of Alexander’s workers would be here for hours.

He turned and saw the other man’s face, haggard, bags under his eyes.

His shoulders sagged as he finished unlocking his door. “Close the door behind you.”

He made his way to his desk and slumped into his chair, his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands.

“Thomas has already spoken to you?” Burr asked as the door clicked closed.

Alexander looked up at him. He should have known. Jefferson had agreed too easily to the cover up. He’d agreed too quickly. He’d gone home and started thinking and realized he could have gotten more from Alexander. He could have bargained harder.

And now, like all blackmailers, he’d sent one of his dogs to collect the rest of what he thought was owed to him.

Burr didn’t meet his eyes as he sat down. “He’s decided that he does, in fact, want you to resign.”

“Of course he does.” Alexander nodded. “I assume, competent attorney that you are, that you told him that the agreements he wanted me to sign would be null and void? You can’t legally prevent someone from leaving or entering a town through civil contract?”

“If he were a halfway decent lawyer he’d have known it was illegal before he even mentioned it,” Burr muttered.

“He did.” Alexander shook his head. “He wasn’t planning on using something as trifling as the law to make me comply with his wishes. He was using something far more important than that.”

“What is—” Burr looked up at him. “You love him.”

Alexander closed his eyes rather than stare at the disgust and pity on Burr’s face.

“Jesus, Alexander.” Burr was still staring when he reopened his eyes. “You truly… How long?”

“Since the war. Morristown.”

“Jesus.” Burr swallowed. “I suspected that the two of you had an unnatural relationship but… You’re married men.”

“Would it have been better if I’d have remained a bachelor?” Alexander whispered. “Would it revolt you less if I had not married and fathered children?”

“I just… Why?”

“Why?” Alexander looked at him. “Do you think I choose to live like this? That I decided to fall in love with someone I could never truly have? That I didn’t know that if other people found out they would look at me with disgust and scorn? Do you think I didn’t feel that way myself? Do you think I don’t realize that everyone this touches is hurt from it? That I don’t know that the secrets and the lies and the things we don’t say to each other has destroyed my family and George’s?”

“I…”

“I know all of those things,” Alexander whispered. “That’s why I stayed away from him after the war. I went back to New York and I worked hard— you know that.”

“I do.” Burr nodded. “You were always…”

“I worked and I focused on my family and any time I caught myself thinking about George I focused harder. Any time I missed him, I forced myself to remember that the pain of being apart was worth it to keep us all whole. But I never stopped loving him. Never stopped thinking about him. From the last moment I saw him at Yorktown to the first moment I saw him at the Convention in Philadelphia— there was never a single day that I didn’t love him.”

“Jesus.” Burr ran a hand over his face. “I had no idea.”

“Would it have mattered if you did?” Alexander asked. “Would you have come to me first? Would you have tried to see what I would offer you not to tell Jefferson?”

“I…”

“You sold my secrets to Thomas Jefferson for your own chance at power.”

Burr glared at him. “There is nothing wrong with having ambition.”

“And where has it gotten you?” Alexander snapped. “What did Jefferson give you for this? What was your thirty pieces of silver to bring down the government, Aaron.”

“Secretary of Treasury,” Burr muttered. “Then, after he’s finished his time as President. I’ll succeed him.”

“He won’t be President. Not yet.”

Burr stared at him.

“Think Aaron. You’re from New York. Think. Do you truly believe New York and Massachusetts will allow another President from Virginia?”

“If he has a—” Burr stared at him and Alexander could see the pieces clicking into place.

“Adams will succeed George,” Alexander said. “Jefferson is going to gain no greater position than Vice President in the next election. And, by the time he’s strong enough to challenge Adams for President? He’ll have long forgotten any promises he made to you.”

“Well.” Burr coughed.

“He’s already discarded you, hasn’t he?” Alexander asked quietly. “As soon as he had what he needed, you became his little errand boy again, didn’t you? Did he and Madison even allow you to ride in the carriage with them or did they claim there wasn’t room for three in Jefferson’s phaeton?”

The tightening in Burr’s jaw was all he needed to know he was right.

“Now he sends you to do his dirty work. What does our new Lord Protector wish to decree now? My resignation?”

Burr dropped his head. “It’s not enough.”

“What? Money? Unlike Jefferson I wasn’t born into wealth. Whatever he wants, I’ll most likely not be able to pay all of it. At least not right at this moment.”

“He doesn’t want money. He wants assurances that you won’t attempt to reenter public life.”

“He already has it,” Alexander said. “He has a document stating that I will retire from public life.”

“But as you said, he can’t enforce it.”

“He can.” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “All he has to do is whisper allegations into the ears of his favorite newspaper editor and I’ll be finished, whether I honor our agreement or not.”

“That’s the trouble,” Burr said. “No newspaper will publish it.”

“He tried already?”

“He floated the idea past the editor at The Republic. The editor told him that he couldn’t risk such an allegation. The threat of a slander suit was too high. And unless Jefferson could provide him with a victim willing to come forward, or a witness…”

“And, I’m sure after a brief investigation, Jefferson realized that I am not the sort to frequent the molly houses and his only recourse would be to accuse the President of the United States of being a sodomite. Which, not even a rag like The Republic would dare to suggest.”

“Exactly.”

“So if his contract is useless and his blackmail is useless then what does he want?”

“A scandal. Something serious enough that you’ll be forced to resign in disgrace.”

“What?”

“He’s leaving the decision of that up to you. A woman perhaps?”

“No.” Alexander shook his head. “I won’t do that to George.”

“Forget about the President,” Burr retorted. “If you don’t put yourself into disgrace and resign then Jefferson will begin a whisper campaign against you and the President both. He cannot publish his accusations but he can make sure they are whispered about in the House and the Senate. Even worse, he can make sure they are whispered about in Albany.”

Alexander’s heart clenched. He wasn’t in love with Eliza but he did care for her. Loved her even. She was the mother of his children. His companion.

He had hurt her enough when he’d confessed his love for another to her. He couldn’t add the shame of this to it as well.

He couldn’t shame Eliza this way.

Couldn’t ruin George.

“I’ll do it.” Alexander nodded. “Just not a sex scandal. It won’t be enough. Not really.”

“Then what?” Burr asked.

“Tell Jefferson to give me a few days to think of the proper plan and work out the details.”

“He’ll—”

“If he wants it to work then he’ll need to give me time to figure out the best way to ruin myself. He can give me that at least.”

“He’s not going to wait long.”

“Tell him to meet me here Friday at the end of the working day. I’ll have a plan cobbled together by then.”

Burr nodded and then stood.

Alexander watched as he made his way to the door, his shoulders slumped and his spine rigid.

“I just…” Burr turned back to him. “You have to understand. I’m just as smart… Just as good. But somehow the opportunities to advance do not come to me as they do to you. You trip and fall over a golden chance at success while I toil away and am never recognized. Then, Jefferson—”

“You have a hunger for power,” Alexander said. “And when you saw your chance, you took it.”

“You would have done the same.”

“Maybe. But you have to know Burr, this will all come to naught for you. With this all you’ve done is prove to Thomas that you cannot be trusted. You were a man who could be turned from loyalty from the vaguest of promises. He’d be a fool to bring you into his administration. Which is why George was wise enough never to do so.”

Burr glared at him and jerked his head back toward the door, storming out of it and slamming it behind him.

Alexander watched as the etching of the Roman Senate that decorated his wall bounced at the impact and then let his head sink into his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

He stared at the papers on his desk and tried to focus. There were important matters of state to handle. Important issues that needed to be dealt with. He would have to call Adams in and sign over the workings of the government to him. Not publicly, George thought to himself. There was no way that he would be capable of resigning publicly. No, he’d begin shifting responsibilities to Adams and let him bash heads with Thomas.

He’d start quietly letting people know that Adams had his support as a successor.

Power needed to be shared between the states. If Thomas was to become President it would isolate the northern states. What they needed was Massachussetts men and New York men and Virginia men and South Carolina men and all the rest to share the load between them equally.

He would explain to Adams that he needed the other man to begin discreetly taking part more in the small cabinet meetings. He’d tell him he was publicly grooming him so that others would see that John Adams was George’s choice for President. He’d tell the other man he intended to resign when his term was up and return to Virginia. He’d make noises about being tired. Old. He’d managed the war and then the birth of their country and then finally he’d played nursemaid to their nation in its infancy. Now? Now he wanted to rest. He wanted to tend his garden. There was a house full of grandchildren and nieces and nephews to spoil. Foxes to hunt and days meant to be spent on the bank of the river, his feet in the water and a fishing pole in his hands.

He’d planned on retiring anyway, he reminded himself. He was tired. He’d given his country his best years and now, in the sunset of his life? He wanted a slower pace for him and Alexander.

Martha knew about them. She’d known during the war and when they’d began again in Philadelphia she’d only shook her head and moved his things from their suite to a smaller one down the hall. After all these years they’d learned to respect each other enough not to pretend. Not to cling to illusions of who the other should be.

She’d cradled his head to her chest when they’d seen Eliza that night, a year ago, her belly filled with Alexander’s son. She’d let him cry and soothed him after. Then she’d sent Eliza a lovely shawl as a gift and it was quietly made known that Alexander would not be welcome to tea. Martha had gone so far as to give him the cut direct at a ball the Jay’s had hosted to celebrate the anniversary of the Constitution’s ratification.

He’d always hoped… George swallowed. When their time in Philadelphia was over he might convince Alexander to move to Virginia. They could continue their arrangement. Alexander and Eliza could have Ball Farm. They’d do renovations to make it nice enough for a young family. There was a small hunting lodge between the two properties where Alexander and George could make their own small home.

It would not have been an ideal situation but it would have been enough.

There was a soft tap on the door and George was pulled from his thoughts. “Enter.”

He set the papers on his desk and leaned back in his chair, waiting. Of course Jefferson would stop by again with more orders for George to comply with. He’d probably spent the morning drawing up new plans in regards to France. He wanted to send troops. Money. Supplies. Things they didn’t have.

George needed Adams in the small cabinet if Alexander could no longer work as Jefferson’s opposition.

The door opened quietly and Alexander slipped in, closing the door silently behind him.

What was he— How had he— “Alexander?”

He hadn’t seen his love in three days and every moment Alexander was all that he’d thought of. Now, he was here, in front of George.

“Shhh.” His husband pressed a finger to his lips and hurried forward.

George stood and pulled him to a settee at the far end of the room. “What are you doing here?” George asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I needed to make sure you were all right. I needed to tell you…”

Alexander looked away from him and George felt his heart fall into the lowest pit of his stomach.

“My love.” George ran a hand over his cheek. “How did you—”

“The men Jefferson hired to watch me during the day?” Alexander kissed his palm. “They work for the Treasury. I simply keep them too busy working to notice where I am or where I’m not. And I sneaked out to go to the privy and didn’t come back.”

Jesus. George closed his eyes as he let his forehead drop to Alexander’s. They’d come to this?

“And your men?” Alexander kissed his hand again. “They’re soldiers. You are a General. I am a Colonel and the men guarding you? They are Privates.”

“But—”

“And Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson is a civilian with no rank.”

“You clever boy,” George kissed him lightly on the lips. “I didn’t even think about challenging them. I have been too busy worrying—”

“Burr came to see me,” Alexander whispered. “They want me to resign.”

“No.”

“It’s the only way. Burr was direct. If I don’t resign they’ll begin a whisper campaign against us. Not just me. You as well.”

“Let them,” George clutched Alexander’s cheek. “Let them say what they want. I’ve faced swords and canons and the King’s death warrant and never once doubted that it was worth it to love you. Do you think a few whispers will make me doubt myself now?”

“It will destroy us,” Alexander said and George could see tears in his eyes. “All of us. Martha. Eliza. My children.”

George’s chest tightened.

Alexander’s children.

They were the only people he did not resent in this mess they’d found themselves in. He’d wanted to hate them. Wanted to despise every one of them for taking pieces of Alexander’s heart from him. Instead, he was enchanted by them. He looked at them and saw Alexander in their eyes and in the set of Phillip’s shoulders and in the way Angelica wrinkled her snub little nose. James looked like his father when he was asleep.

He’d taught Phillip to ride a horse— had insisted the boy have a yearling from his own stables when it was time for him to hand down his small pony to his sister. He’d taught the boy to hunt. He’d forced Alexander out of the office and onto a horse and they’d gone out to a small farm near the Brandywine and he’d shown the boy how to handle a musket. He told Phillip stories about Alexander when he was young, trying to handle a Pennsylvania rifle that was so long it went higher than his nose.

He’d put Angelica on the front of his saddle and rode her about town. He’d bought her hair ribbons and penny sweets and pretty dolls that needed their hair combed. He’d even danced her about the parlor of the Presidential mansion, her tiny feet resting on his toes to teach her how to dance.

He’d been the first to hold James after he’d been christened— an honor that normally went to the closest male relative on the father’s side.

“I’ll resign.” George kissed his forehead. “I’ll leave Philadelphia. I’ll return to Mount Vernon and retire.”

“You can’t.”

“I won’t risk your children Alexander.” He ran his fingers through his husband’s hair. “I will not ask you to endure such a thing as that. I cannot ask you to choose between me and them.”

“I would—”

“You would choose an honorable path and protect your children,” George whispered. “Otherwise you would not be the man I married on that riverbank.”

“I have to resign.” Alexander closed his eyes. “I have to resign and leave Philadelphia. Go far away from you.”

“It will only be for a short time. My term is almost up and we’ll be together again. Either you’ll move to Mount Vernon or I’ll take a small home in New York. We’ll find a way Alexander.”

“I…” His husband sobbed. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Did this to me?” George asked, his voice soft. “What did you do to me Alexander? Love me? Comfort me when I was heart sick? Provide me with companionship when I was lonely and lost? Support me even when I doubted my own judgment?”

“I dragged you into this with me,” Alexander whispered. “This depravity. This sin. I—”

“Even if you would not have kissed me that night,” George whispered. “I had already fallen into sin with you Alexander. I loved you. Desired you long before the first time we touched. If I am damned for loving you? I was damned long before you made your feelings known. By my thoughts if not by my deeds.”

“No matter what happens,” Alexander whispered as he pressed a kiss to George’s lips. “Never doubt that I love you.”

“Never.”

“You are my beloved. My only love.” Alexander pressed their foreheads together and sighed. “You and no other George. Until the last moment of my life you will be the only person I have loved like this.”

“Shhh.” George reached for his husband’s waist to pull him closer, to cradle his love against his chest and keep him safe. “We’ll not talk about such things right now. Not last moments or separations. We’ll not talk as if this is good-bye. We’ll figure this out yet, my Alexander. I’ll not let you slip away and back to the sea.”

“I…” Alexander sighed.

“Shhh.” George brought his lips down to nibble along Alexander’s neck. “I’ve no meetings for the rest of the day and have told Williams I am not to be disturbed unless British warships are spotted sailing into the harbor. We can be alone for a bit.”

Alexander sighed as George’s lips found his and licked his way in. He twined his tongue with Alexander’s coaxing it to play. He’d never been fond of kissing until he’d met Alexander. A wet slab of meat in his mouth, wiggling away, had disgusted him. Then, he’d been coaxed into playful kisses with his love and it had become his favorite hobby.

Alexander reached for the buttons on George’s breeches and he laced his fingers with his husband’s, stopping him. “Just this.” He kissed Alexander softly. “I just need to feel your body against mine. Just need to breathe your air.”

Alexander nodded silently and shifted, swinging his legs up on the settee and laying back so that George could climb on top of him and they could simply touch and kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you,” George answered as he continued to nibble on his lover’s neck and ears, careful to keep his weight on his knees and his elbows and not on Alexander’s slender hips.

He could feel his husband’s growing arousal and smiled. George shifted one hand up to gather Alexander’s wrists and pin them above his head to the settee while set to work on the buttons of Alexander’s breeches with his other hand.

“What are you—” Alexander whispered. “I thought we were not—”

“I said I did not need,” George answered, brushing another kiss against his husband’s lips. “But you?”

He trailed his hand into Alexander’s smalls, shifting them down enough for his lover’s cock to spring free. He trailed a fingertip from the swollen tip, down the vein, and along the skin of his stones, until he’d slipped behind them and pressed on the sensitive skin between his lover’s legs.

Alexander bit his lip and let his eyes slip closed as his hips arched.

“If you must resign your office and leave Philadelphia,” George whispered, “I would make sure you’ve a pleasurable memory to give you comfort until we can be together again.”

He let go of Alexander’s wrist and shifted, so that he was eye level to Alexander’s cock and then licked the skin at his hip.

Alexander arched again and George pressed another kiss against his hip before trailing his lips to Alexander’s cock and began to nibble and kiss at the head in the way he knew Alexander liked.

“I love you,” Alexander whimpered. “I love you so much.”

In response George opened his mouth and swallowed Alexander’s cock, relaxing his throat enough that he could swallow all but a hand’s width of Alexander’s shaft. He began to suck, teasing the head, stroking in time with his mouth and tormenting his beautiful lover.

“I…” Alexander ran a hand along George’s scalp and his fingers clenched slightly. “I…”

He sucked harder, feeling his lover swell and then release on his tongue.

Alexander sobbed and George swallowed him down as his hips arched and bucked underneath George’s hands.

He pulled away, giving Alexander’s cock a soft kiss and looked up to find Alexander with tears on his cheeks.

“Oh my love,” George buttoned Alexander back into his clothes quickly and moved up to cradle Alexander’s face. “That was not supposed to make you cry.”

“I don’t want to say good-bye to you,” Alexander whispered. “Every time it hurts more than the last.”

“I know.” George said, soothingly. “It’s the same for me. But this time we will not be apart for long. A few months. Just long enough for you to settle things and then I’ll be with you again. I swear Alexander. We’ll be together again soon. This is not good-bye, my heart.”

“I pray that you’re right,” Alexander whispered as he settled into the settee and pulled George down next to him.

“I am.” George said as he kissed Alexander’s nose and let his eyes slip closed. “You must simply trust me. I promised you in Morristown that I would protect you Alexander, you must trust me to keep my word. I promised that I would love you and our country and no other. Trust me that those words are still as true today as the day I first said them.”

“I do,” Alexander whispered and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I have never doubted you my love, not once.”

“Then lie here and rest with me for a bit, my love, and forget the worries that would send you fleeing back to your coat and into the sea.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Alexander stared down at George, sleeping peacefully beside him on the settee and his heart broke. He’d wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to tell him that Burr said a resignation wasn’t enough. Jefferson wanted a scandal to destroy Alexander as well.

Then he’d seen George’s face and he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell George that Jefferson wanted something so foul. That their words as gentlemen that they would leave the city when George’s term was finished wasn’t enough. He couldn’t tell George that his honor meant so little to a man like Jefferson.

The words had been in his throat and they had frozen there. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t lay that final insult on George’s soul.

Alexander slipped free of his husband’s arms and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He stood and buttoned his breeches before making his way to the desk. George kept a comb and a hand mirror there for when Alexander used to sneak away from the Treasury Department so they could to spend their lunch together. A quick round of lovemaking before George’s small council meeting.

He combed his hair back into a neat queue and slipped his shoes back on.

He glanced over at George, still resting on the settee. His poor love. His General. There were bags under his eyes. Worry lines on his face and Alexander could see a faint gray fuzz starting to grow on his scalp. He obviously hadn’t been taking care of himself this week.

He reached for a piece of parchment and George’s quill. Scouting reports indicate no changes, he wrote. The code he’d used in the war to send trifling bits of love to his commander. One day historians would see orders to plunder rolling hills and seize lands and they would never know that George’s orders had nothing to do with the capture of Pennsylvania.

He put the note where George would see it and hurried from the room, hoping no one would see him.

“Ah, Mr. Hamilton,” an arch voice announced loudly. “Or should I say Mrs. Washington the Younger?” Thomas asked, his voice lower.

“What do you want?” Alexander turned to stare at the other man. “You’ve already taken everything, must you torment us as well now?”

“Taken everything?” Jefferson grabbed his arm and pulled him into a small meeting room. “My dear Mr. Hamilton, I am taking nothing. What I’m doing is protecting this country from your moral deviance— protecting the President.”

“You mean controlling him.”

“His judgment is compromised. If he were in his right mind he would know that what he’s doing risks our very survival. But you’ve entrapped him with your deviance and he’s incapable of thinking clearly.”

“He’s not seeing things your way you mean,” Alexander snapped.

“The same difference. Better he take advice and counsel from a proper man rather than…” Jefferson curled his lip at Alexander. “A catamite bastard. It’s no wonder you argue against honoring our commitments to France, your kind has no notion of honor.”

“No, I have a notion of what war is,” Alexander snapped. “What it’s like to be cold and shit scared in a trench, hoping to live until dinner the next night so you might get a bite or two of beans in your empty stomach.”

“Pah. You act as though—”

“As though I fought in a war while you were off romancing French ladies?” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “I also know that wars are expensive and we do not have the funds to pay for them. Besides, if we engage with the English again we may not win. Our fighting men—”

“Are the best in the world,” Thomas argued.

“Are tired of fighting and wish for peace,” Alexander said.

“There’s no point in arguing this with you,” Thomas said dismissively. “It’s not as though you have any standing on the council anymore. Burr will take over your position in the Treasury and find the money for this fight and eventually you’ll see that honor and liberty always prevail against tyrants.”

“Then why are we meeting like this?” Alexander retorted. “If not to convince me to use my wiles to your service?”

“I want your resignation. Your disgrace.”

“I sent my letter of resignation to your office.”

“It’s not enough. I’m leaving government to spend more time with my family? No one will believe that Hamilton. No one gives up power to spend time with their family.”

“Of course they do,” Alexander answered. “How many times did you refuse to serve as an ambassador due to your own wife’s illness? Eliza has been tired since James’ birth. And government doesn’t pay to keep an expanding family like ours in the style she’s accustomed to. I’m resigning from the government to reestablish my law practice and spend time with Eliza and the children.”

“You have to know that I’ll prevent you from ever standing in front of the bar in Virginia.”

“I expected no less,” Alexander said. “I’ll be practicing in New York. All you have to do is accept the letter of resignation that I sent to your office and George’s.”

“No.” Jefferson tilted his head to the side. “It’s too easy.”

“Thomas,” Alexander said, staring at him. “You’re tilting at windmills now. You want my resignation and I am giving it.”

“But why give in so easily?”

“Because I do not want my reputation ruined. Or George’s.”

“But why?” Jefferson stared at him. “You and I both know that most people won’t believe it. There will be whispers but nothing more. Your position isn’t elected, you could remain in the Treasury Department even if the rumor went about that you’d played the maiden for all of Washington’s military staff.”

“I would not have my wife and children shamed in such a way,” Alexander said. “And I know that if your first round of whispers are unsuccessful you’ll simply continue on until you find a rumor that takes. Then, George will call you out and there will be the scandal of the President of the United States murdering his own Secretary of State.”

Jefferson scoffed.

“Do not doubt his aim,” Alexander said. “I once saw him take a man down a man while both of them were in the saddle at a full gallop. He’s aged but he’s not blind.”

“I do not doubt him,” Jefferson taunted. “I doubt that you would allow such a thing. Not when you’re desperate to avoid a scandal so you might eventually return to public life.”

“Thomas I give you my word that I have no intention—”

“No, your word means nothing. I want your destruction, hand delivered, or my lips might just find their way to susceptible ears in Albany.”

“Damn you.” Alexander glared at him. “Will speculation be enough? You’ve always seen me as a poor upstart with no manners, this would prove you right and ruin me.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “When?”

“I’ll go back to the Treasury and give the money to a man I already know is guilty of such things. I’ll confide that I need him to smuggle the money out and give it to another man, I’ll make it sound as though the man is being paid to keep a secret of some sort.”

“A good secret,” Jefferson said. “Something truly damning. A lady perhaps? An affair?”

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “I was thinking something related to the war.”

“No.” Jefferson shook his head. “You’d be forgiven almost anything from the war. You’re standing as a war hero is too well known for scandal to attach itself.”

“Fine.” Alexander sighed. “A woman then, from before my marriage.”

“Before?”

“Even you are not enough of a cur to wish my Eliza pain.” Alexander glared at him. “An affair from before I met her. An indiscretion in my youth that I have been paying to keep quiet since securing my position at the Treasury Department. A woman whose name won’t be mentioned to preserve her standing in society.”

“A married woman?”

“Of course,” Alexander said. “I had a delicate liaison with a young woman during the war— before either of us were married and I have been paying to keep our shared secret.”

“A love child perhaps?” Jefferson suggested. “Just to make it believable.”

“Fine.” Alexander’s fingers twitched as he fought the urge to reach up and throttle the taller man. “I had an affair with a young society belle who was engaged to another. She became pregnant and we foisted her bastard off on her husband. Someone found out and now I am paying out blackmail to keep my name, the lady’s name and our child’s name from being exposed.”

“Fine.” Jefferson nodded, smiling like Angelica’s kitten when it cornered a mouse.

“There’s a man named Reynolds in my office,” Alexander continued. “I’ve suspected him of stealing from the Treasury for a while. I’ll mark the bills that I give him and tell him just enough for him to use it when he’s arrested.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” Jefferson asked.

“I need to retrieve the money I want him to use from my office at home. I have three hundred dollars there, it should be enough.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow at him. “Speculating with your own money isn’t—”

“I’ll give him Treasury minted bills,” Alexander said. “And I’ll replace the money to the Treasury from my own funds. I may have conceded to this farce Thomas, but I will not actually become a thief for you.”

“So honorable.” Jefferson sneered. “If only you’d thought about your honor—”

“Good day,” Alexander said, turning to the door.

“Does the truth bother you?” Thomas asked as Alexander’s hand came to rest on the latch. “Does knowing that what you do is a mortal sin make your soul burn?”

“No.” Alexander dropped his head and stared at his hand on the latch. “Because, at least when I commit my sins, I know we both consented to it. And that we’re both fully grown men. Unlike someone else in this room— I’ve never had to rape my lovers.”

“You—” Thomas swore.

“Bastard?” Alexander said as he pulled the door open and walked away from Jefferson. “Yes, I’m aware. Good day Sir. Expect my note tomorrow morning.”

“If I do not have it by noon I’ll find my way to the Senate and begin talking.”

“You’ll have it before noon.”


	8. Chapter 8

He stared at the pamphlet in front of him. “The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds for the purposes of improper pecuniary speculation. My real crime is an amorous connection from my past with a lady who shall remain unnamed and a child born of that union. Reynolds, and his compatriots, knowing of this unfortunate, and delicate situation, did design to extort money from me. Given that I have limited means and did not wish for my wife to know of this situation— which relates to a period before our marriage— I illegally used Treasury funds to pay for this extortion.”

Fraud? It couldn’t be true. Obviously, George thought to himself, it wasn’t true. There was no young lady of gentle manners who was seduced by Alexander during the war. No bastard child of war that was foisted upon another. It was lies. It had to be lies.

Except… George swallowed. Alexander had never been opposed to bedding ladies. Heaven knew there were rumors that he’d bedded plenty before he and George had formed their attachment. He’d heard the rumors about Alexander and his ability to drop out of a window and leg it across a field with a farmer on his tail. It was how he’d heard of Alexander the first time, his generals sitting around the fire at an inn, telling stories about the junior officers and their antics and Nathaniel Greene had told them about the Creole bastard from a New York artillery regiment and his antics with the local farm girls.

“So the farmer comes storming into camp, rifle in hand, ready to defend the honor of his daughter,” Nathaniel laughed. “And Hamilton looks at him and says ‘Sir, which daughter am I meant to have debauched?’ And the man says ‘you know you’ve debauched my Mary.’ And—” Nathaniel had tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hamilton looks at him and says ‘no Sir, I haven’t touched your daughter Mary. If she’s been debauched it wasn’t by me.’ And we get the man calmed down, give him a bit of gold to convince him that perhaps this can be settled without guns, and off he goes.”

“And?” Stirling had asked.

“Hamilton waits until the man is out of earshot and says ‘Thank goodness he said Mary. She’s the only one of that farmer’s daughters I haven’t deflowered.’”

It… George’s stomach churned. It could be true.

Before Alexander had joined his staff there had been women he’d bedded but he’d sworn to George that there was no one else after him. In those years apart as well. He’d promised George that there had been no one besides Eliza, and then only after several cups of wine.

But Alexander didn’t always tell him everything, George thought to himself, remembering James’s arrival in the world.

Fraud though? His Alexander was many things but he’d never been a thief. And if he needed money…

George would have given him whatever he needed. George had money. Together they’d have found a way to pay whatever it was that Reynolds and his devious friends demanded. He’d have taken care of this for Alexander. As he was sure Phillip Schuyler would have done the same if he’d have known.

George grimaced as he thought about Alexander’s father-in-law. Schuyler had more money than George and Alexander would ever have, no matter how hard either of them worked and Schuyler would have willingly handed it over to keep his daughter from disgrace. He would have paid, and paid, and paid and never once uttered a word because of his code as a gentleman. Sometimes things were done by young men that they had to pay for later, when they were wiser, but that didn’t mean the delicate sensibilities of the ladies had to be damaged in the process. Gentlemen like Phillip Schuyler, like George, knew the meaning of discretion.

He stood, staring at the pamphlet, outside Alexander’s door— Eliza’s door he’d always thought of it as before now— and tried to think of what he should say.

The door opened before he could reach up and rap on it with his cane and Alexander stood on the other side, his hair loose and his clothes disheveled, smelling of drink, a brandy bottle clutched in his hand.

“Am I disturbing you?” George’s voice sounded cold to his own ears.

Instead of answering, Alexander stepped aside and opened the door wider for George.

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

“Which part?” Alexander closed the door behind him and then took a drink of brandy from the bottle.

George turned to stare at him. “You make it sound as if there will be different answers, depending upon what I say.”

“It was what Jefferson demanded of me to keep you safe.”

“To keep me— I am the President of the United States.”

“And if he were to start a whisper campaign against you—”

“I would have survived it Alexander. My term is almost up. We had reached an agreement with Jefferson. I would resign and when I left office, you would leave the Treasury and we’d both leave public life. Retire to Virginia or New York.”

“He came back later and said it wasn’t enough. That he didn’t trust my word.”

“Then he should have trusted mine,” George snapped.

“He needed to destroy me,” Alexander said. “He needed to make sure that I could not run against him. That I couldn’t write pamphlets arguing against his plans. Even if I retired, I could have spoken out against him and it would have influenced people. He knew that with my connections in New York that I could arrange the votes against him in the House and the Senate from the northern states.”

“So Thomas needed you in disgrace,” George said, grabbing the brandy bottle and taking his own long pull. “He needed to make sure that you were not a threat to him. But to admit to thievery? Alexander, what if they charge you?”

“It had to be enough to ruin me.” Alexander shook his head. “And since I paid the money back—”

“You?” George stared at him. “You paid the money back?”

“I am not a thief,” Alexander said. “I paid James Reynolds in marked Treasury bills and immediately replaced the bills with my own money. Then I sent a note to the constable.”

“So we’ll claim that this was an elaborate ruse. You didn’t actually steal the money, you were flushing out a thief within the department.”

“I thought of that,” Alexander said. “So did Jefferson. Which is why the pamphlet was necessary. The public admission of guilt that I couldn’t take back. Something scandalous that would ruin me.”

“So you decided to—”

“If I’m to be a disgrace, I might as well be a notorious one,” Alexander shrugged. “Besides, Jefferson made sure that I knew if I didn’t provide them with a salacious enough story they would simply make up their own. This way? This way I could control the narrative in a way that would lessen the pain to you and Eliza.”

“The pain to me and Eliza?” George stared at him. “You confessed to a criminal act to save me and Eliza from pain?”

“Yes.” Alexander ran his hands through his hair. “Don’t you understand? I may be a thief but in this version I am an honorable thief. I am a man who stole not for his own profit but to save another from disgrace. In this version I’m not an adulterer. My indiscretions are past deeds, not current. Eliza does not need to face society, knowing that they are all talking about how I prefer another woman’s bed to hers. In this version? I was young and stupid and made a mistake.”

“Is that what I am to you?” George stared at him. “A mistake?”

“You could never be a mistake,” Alexander grabbed his lapels and pulled him close. “You are my life. My entire life, George.”

“But if you could rewrite your history—”

“I would never have married her!”

They both froze at his admission. George had… They had never spoken of that time. There had been a fight, about something trivial— Alexander had been jealous of the attention that George paid to Martha and Caty Greene— and suddenly Alexander was dancing with Eliza Schuyler and escorting her to the gardens and moving out of George’s quarters and back into his own.

“I was young and I was stupid and I was angry. I was angry that it was Martha on your arm each night at balls. I was angry that she was the one you called ‘my dearest’ and I…” Alexander dropped his head against George’s chest.

“I thought if I made you jealous you would realize that I was the one you were supposed to love.”

“Alexander—” George sighed. “I did love you then. I love you now. I don’t escort Martha places because I do not love you, I do it because—”

“It keeps us safe,” Alexander whispered. “I know that now. But when I was twenty years old and still in those violent first passions I had for you then? I wanted you to know how much it hurt when you looked at others like you looked at me. So I thought that if you had to feel that pain—”

“Oh my love.” George tilted his head upward. “It seems that no matter how hard we try, all we do is bring each other pain.”

“I’m sorry I married her,” Alexander whispered. “I should have trusted you, when you said that your feelings for Martha hadn’t changed. I should have trusted you when you said it was a marriage of name and property only. But I was young and stupid and when she looked at me? I thought I could be a normal man. I could marry her and fall in love and how I feel about you it would—”

“I know.” George pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t you think I hoped the same for you? That she would make you happy and you would forget about how we felt for each other? Even though it would have broken my heart, even though it did break my heart at the time to see you with another, do you not think I would have wished for you a life better than the one we’ve been forced to cobble together, hiding in the shadows all the time?”

“A lifetime in the shadows is worth it to love you,” Alexander said. “But even still, Eliza she’s—” His voice cracked. “She is a good wife, if only in the limited ways that I’ve allowed her to be. A good mother. Even though I’ve made her terribly unhappy, she has never tried to hurt me. I could not hurt her. So Jefferson demanded my disgrace and this is what I gave him. Blackmail and thievery and an illicit scandal from during the war. Nothing that will ruin Eliza. Nothing that will ruin your Administration. People will talk-- and I expect I’ll be asked to resign from the Board of the Bank of New York— but eventually it will blow over and I’ll return to my law practice. I know of a few small homes we might consider buying that are only a few streets from my office. It will not be much but we do not have much now and we’ve been perfectly happy.”

“And if Jefferson decides to have you charged with thievery? With embezzlement?”

“He won’t.” Alexander shook his head. “I gave him his scandal, James will keep the Congress under control.”

“I think you overestimate James Madison’s influence in Congress.”

“I—”

A rap at the door interrupted him.

“Hide.” Alexander whispered. “Whoever it is, I’ll let them no further than the doorstep and you can slip out the back.”

“Alexander…” George stared at him.

“George, please.” His lover stared up at him. “Please my love.”

George pressed another kiss to his lips before letting go of Alexander and stepping back, slipping into Alexander’s study and closing the door to nothing but the merest crack.

Another rap.

“One moment.” Alexander yelled, running his hand through his hair and then sighed.

George heard the door creak open. “Good afternoon Captain,” Alexander’s voice was guarded. “How might I help you today?”

“Colonel Hamilton?” The voice sounded so very young to George’s ears. More like a boy than a soldier.

“I am he.”

“Sir.” The Captain cleared his throat. “I have here a warrant from the Senate for your arrest.”

“I see.” Alexander’s voice was firm. “May I read it?”

George peeked out the door and watched as his husband, his back straight and his head lifted, perused the papers. “Treason. Well…” He saw Alexander’s shoulder’s sag briefly before he righted himself. “As you can see, you caught me not in a fit state to leave my residence.”

“Sir?”

“If you’ll give me a moment to retrieve my shoes and coat from my study?” Alexander asked.

“Hansen—”

“I don’t need an escort,” Alexander said quickly as he glanced over his shoulder. “After all, the only other exit from my study is the window to your left. And, if I were an honorable man and met my end with a pistol shot, no one would blame you for saving them the scandal of a trial. And I would leave a short note for my wife, to give her my apologies.”

“Sir.” George saw the soldier straighten.

“Thank you.” Alexander nodded and then turned toward the study. “I won’t burden you with more than a moment’s wait Captain.”

George stepped back as Alexander slipped into the study.

“I—”

Alexander pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “We do not have much time my love,” Alexander whispered.

“I’ll go to John Adams and demand—” George said, his voice barely more than a breath.

“Shhh.” Alexander stared up at him. “I love you. I have not always been the husband that I should have been. I have been rash and short tempered and I have failed you so many times that--”

“Alexander.” George whispered.

“If this is the last time that I see you in this life,” Alexander whispered. “I need you to know that I have loved you every second since the first time I saw you and no matter what happens, I will love you until the last breath escapes my body.”

George closed his eyes, his heart aching. He would fix this. There had to be some way to fix this. Some way to save his love. He was President. That should count for something. Even if he was in private disgrace. “I love you.”

He let go of Alexander and went to retrieve his husband’s coat from the peg nearest the door.

“Colonel Hamilton?” The Captain called out.

“One moment.” His husband responded as he slipped into his shoes. “Just one moment more.”

He let George help him into his jade green coat. “I love you.”

“I love you.” George whispered as he bent his head to brush his lips against Alexander’s.

Alexander pulled away, his head lifted, and turned toward the door, marching out of it, making sure to close it firmly behind him, and left George standing in the middle of his study.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm looking to expand my pool of beta readers for both fan and IRL fiction. If you're interested let me know. What you get out of the deal-- 1.) early access to rough drafts of stories 2.) a final copy of each story in the ebook format of your choice 3.) I have no problems reciprocating beta services

He stared at Burr inside the commander of the garrison’s tiny office. He swallowed as he took in the other man’s haggard face, the wrinkles in his cravat.

Alexander leaned forward in the simple wooden chair they’d given him, the chains on his wrists dangling from between his spread knees. “This reminds me of that first office we looked at when we started our practice,” Alexander said lightly.

Burr glanced at him and then looked around at the rough-hewn wooden walls and the bare floor. “That place next to the laundry and the ladies boarding house where gentlemen came to call at all hours.”

“Remember how we were looking around and suddenly we see the constables go up to the door and the bawd comes out and announces that her’s is a respectable boarding house—” Alexander stifled his laugh.

“And just then a junior constable comes stumbling out, his breeches unbuttoned and his hat askew,” Burr finished, laughing along.

“Then the landlord looks at you,” Alexander continued, “and says, well Sirs I told you it was a good location. Look, your first customers.”

They both laughed then and then lapsed into silence.

“Who knew then that we’d be here now?” Burr asked.

Alexander brought a hand up to push his hair out of his face and tried not to grimace at the grime on his knuckles— the soldiers weren’t too keen on letting him bathe as much as he’d gotten accustomed to since the war.

“Oh, I expect a lot of members of Congress from back then fantasized about watching me face the noose. Especially when I was writing about how they were too tight fisted with the coin.”

“They were tight fisted with the coin,” Burr said. “And we should have hung them as war profiteers after the war.”

“Instead we let them stay in Congress and now they’ll get their wish.”

“The treason charge won’t stick,” Burr said. “It was Butler trying to look stern. He made a speech about how Washington had spared the rod with you for years and spoiled the child. And how it was Congress’s job to make an example of you so that others would know the wrath of the government.”

“Butler’s never liked me.”

“You called him a worthless sheep shagging waste of air.”

“He is—” Alexander stopped. “It doesn’t matter. The charges are in the indictment. If Jefferson decides to press his advantage…”

“The case is one of embezzlement. Not treason. They can’t make the charge stick.”

“Jefferson isn’t trying to,” Alexander said. “He’s going to start his whisper campaign. Even though he said he wouldn’t. Even if they never say it explicitly, they aren’t trying me for embezzlement, they’re trying me for sharing the President’s bed. For tempting him into an unnatural lust. That’s the treason Aaron, not the money.”

“I won’t allow it,” Burr said. “I’ll start a counter campaign. You’re a married man for God’s sake. You have three children. A beautiful wife. Surely no one would believe you are a…”

Alexander stared up at him and saw that Burr couldn’t even bring himself to say the word.

“And he’s the President. The President. The former General of the Continental Army. He’s not… No one will believe he takes part in such moral deviance.”

Alexander closed his eyes and shuddered at the words.

He didn’t believe them; didn’t believe that what he had with George was a sin. They loved each other. Not just in a physical sense either. It wasn’t just misplaced lust. They were in love just as deeply as any man and his wife who’d been together for twenty years. Their bond meant just as much.

“Besides.” Burr’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “I’d be a piss poor lawyer if I showed up here empty handed. Madison is who they’ve chosen to prosecute your case in the House of Representatives and I called on him last night to discuss our shared problem.”

“Our shared problem?” Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“Jefferson,” Burr said. “This was never supposed to go this far. When we arrived at your home we were supposed to catch you in bed with a doxy and then Thomas was going to blackmail you into supporting his plans for France. There was nothing about a resignation or trumped up charges of embezzlement and treason. It was about coaxing you into supporting him in the President’s cabinet. It was never meant to give him the powder to start a shadow coup and set himself up as a despot. We’ve had enough of those as it is.”

Alexander nodded. “And Madison agreed with you?”

“Madison was the one who extended the invitation to dinner,” Burr said, meeting his eyes. “He doesn’t want a trial. He’s afraid that a second narrative will get out, that Rufus King and I will convince enough of the northern representatives that this is politically motivated and you’ll be acquitted.”

“I publicly confessed.”

“Madison is still worried. That’s why he’s suggested a compromise.”

“A compromise?” Alexander stared at him.

“He’ll take treason off the indictment. You’ll plead guilty to embezzlement and you’ll only be sentenced to five years in the brig at West Point.”

“Five years?” Alexander stared at him. “He wants me to spend five years in prison for a case he doesn’t think he can—”

“He also agreed that the Congress will not protest if George pardons you— as long as it is his last act of Congress. Also, you won’t be stripped of your membership to the bar. You’ll be able to rebuild your practice after this is over. In New York or Virginia.”

“I…” He swallowed. Five years. They would publicly sentence him to five years but in reality, he’d serve at most eighteen months. He’d serve eighteen months and then he’d be free. Free to follow George to Virginia if that was what the other man wanted. Free to restart his career. Free to restart his life with George.

A better life.

He would be a better husband this time. A better man.

He’d be a man who deserved to be loved by George Washington.

“I think if I talk to a few of my contacts in Congress,” Burr started. “I can perhaps make Madison amenable to better terms. An immediate pardon by the President perhaps. No jail time. Or house arrest at the Schuyler mansion in Albany instead of West Point.”

“Not the Schuyler’s.” Alexander shook his head. “I cannot ask Phillip Schuyler to take me in when…”

He swallowed, strengthening his nerve. It was time to be the man George deserved. A man free from encumbrances. And God knew Eliza deserved better than the marriage they had. She deserved happiness. “I want you to draw up divorce papers.”

“Divorce?” Burr stared at him.

“Cite mentally cruelty and abuse.”

“Are you trying to argue that your affair is because—”

“No.” Alexander stared at him. Had Burr always been this dense? “I want you to write the papers up so that Eliza can divorce me. Give her everything. The children. The money. All of our property.”

“And if she refuses?” Burr asked, his eyes wide. “She’s publicly standing by you right now.”

“I’ll write to her. She knows I have a lover.” Alexander swallowed.

“She—”

“She doesn’t know who. She suspects it’s Angelica.”

“Angelica?”

“I may have used your own indiscretions with my sister-in-law for my own purposes,” Alexander said with a shrug. “Considering it saved my dear Eliza from finding out that she was married to a man like me? I thought you would not be upset at the deception.”

Burr shook his head, disbelief on his face.

“I’ll write to her and explain that this is the best way. She can distance herself from this scandal— no one will blame her after all. She just found out that her husband was a thief who has a bastard child she didn’t know about, from a pamphlet I had printed. I’ve shamed her and myself. No one will blame her for divorcing me and taking the children back to Albany.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She deserves the chance to be happy,” Alexander said. “If she goes back to Albany there will be rich, eligible men lining up to marry her and give her a life that I am not capable of living.”

“I see.” Burr nodded. “I’ll go and speak to her. She’s back in the city—”

“I know,” Alexander said. “She tried to visit and the commander wouldn’t let her in.”

Burr let out a long breathe.

“Talk to Eliza about the divorce and tell Madison we’ll take the deal,” Alexander said. “Five years. A pardon when His Excellency leaves office. Then I’ll retire from public life and we can all put this sorry episode behind us.”

Burr nodded and then stood. “Is there anything else I can—”

“Will you take a letter to the President?”

Burr closed his eyes. “Alexander. I know I cannot change your course from this sin but you cannot expect me to help you in conducting it.”

“It’s not that,” Alexander said. “I just… He’ll be worried. He does that. He worries. Fusses about whether I’m eating enough and sleeping enough. He always has. I just… He has too many cares as it is, he does not need to worry about my welfare.”

“Very well,” Burr sighed. “Pen a letter to your wife and another to His Excellency and I’ll make sure they are delivered. Is there anything else?”

“One other thing,” Alexander said as he moved around to the other side of the Commander’s desk and took a piece of parchment and the quill. “Can you arrange for me a bath and bring me some clean clothes before my sentencing? If I am to destroy my legacy I would at least like to do as a gentleman— with clean hands and clothes that do not smell of a barn.”

“I’ll make sure it is arranged. After all, we cannot have you offending both Congress’s morals and their noses.” He started for the door. He put his hand on the knob and then turned to Alexander again. “I’ll be outside when you’re done with your letters.”

Alexander swallowed and turned his eyes back to the parchment as Burr slipped free of the office. He wrote a short letter to Eliza, explaining that he wanted a divorce. He wanted to give her the chance at happiness. Wanted a chance of happiness for himself when his prison sentence was served. He didn’t intend to return to their shared home and would be making his life elsewhere. It would be better for her to agree to the divorce now rather than wait until his eventual release from prison.

He scrawled his name across it and sanded the ink so that it would dry.

He took another piece of parchment and stared at it. What could he say to his love?

He sighed and gathered his thoughts and scrawled out a quick message.

Scouting reports indicate no changes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter and then I'm out until July 31st when I will be releasing a new story called To Sir With Blood that will update MWF and a Christmas in August story called This Christmas that will start August 1st and update TRSu  
> Until then, comments are love and have a good summer!

**West Point Military Garrison, 18 months later**

He’d been surprised when the guards had brought him a bucket of water. It was Wednesday and they only brought him water to bathe properly on Sundays so that the minister who came to see him wasn’t offended by his smell.

He finished washing in the still icy water and looked at the suit of clothes he’d worn when he arrived, months ago.

How many months? Alexander swallowed. He’d lost track of time. He hadn’t meant to but he had. His cell didn’t have windows and he wasn’t allowed to leave. He wasn’t allowed access to the papers and the only letter that General McDougall allowed him to see was the legal papers that he was required to sign to finalize his divorce from Eliza.

His guards weren’t allowed to talk to him.

He was completely isolated from the military prisoners in the other cells.

“Are you ready Mr. Hamilton?”

He looked up and saw that the oldest of his guards, the one he’d nicknamed Duck Face because of his over prominent upper lip, staring at him.

“I…” He croaked as he tried to work moisture into his mouth.

They’d grown tired of listening to him speak to himself after the first week and had gagged him. After a week of being violently silenced, he’d agreed to only speak when he’d been spoken to.

“Can you give me a moment please?”

Duck Face nodded and turned his back.

Alexander slipped off the thick wool slippers and hose they’d given him. Removed his rough wool breeches and pulled on the smalls that they’d made him abandon with the rest of his clothes. He followed that with his own somber brown breeches and hose before sliding his feet into his shoes. Everything was loose, including his shoes.

He knew he’d lost weight since his arrival but he hadn’t realized how much. He was almost as thin now as he’d been in Valley Forge that terrible winter, years ago.

He removed the dingy gray shirt of his prison uniform and replaced it with his own— it was so loose now that the neck slid over his left shoulder, making him look like a child being put to bed in his father’s shirt. He quickly righted it and tied the collar, then pulled the jacket on. They hadn’t allowed him to wear a cravat when they’d transported him— too much of a risk of him trying to choke himself to death in the armed carriage they’d put him in.

“I’m ready.” He lifted his chin and tried to ignore the stubble on his chin from three days without a razor and the itch of his still shorn head. “Can you tell me why I was given my clothes back?”

Duck Face opened the door, not meeting Alexander’s eyes— his quota of words for the year apparently used— and motioned him out of the cell. He led him out of the brig and across the exercise yard. Alexander huffed, trying to breathe, his legs aching as he tried to keep up. The only exercise he’d been allowed was twenty minutes a day to walk around a small, walled, patch of dirt and his muscles were weak. He marched Alexander passed the office where General McDougall’s office was, across an empty training yard and made his way to the front gate.

“All right there Williams?” Another soldier called out from the gate.

Williams. Right, Duck Face was apparently known as Williams.

“Prisoner release,” Duck Face said. “Open the gates.”

“Prisoner release?” Alexander froze. “I wasn’t told I was being released. I haven’t made arrangements for transportation or—”

Duck Face didn’t say anything, instead, he passed Alexander a pack of papers then turned on his heel, stalking away.

Alexander opened the papers, his fingers trembling.

Official Pardon

He was being released. That meant George’s term must be up. He’d be on his way back to Virginia.

Alexander laughed humorlessly to himself. He reached for the small purse of coins and bills that he’d tucked inside his jacket when he’d been transported. Still there. He wasn’t surprised, McDougall was an ass but he wasn’t the type to steal. And he’d never stoop to stealing from a thief, he wouldn’t want to have his name connected in such a way to Alexander’s.

He pulled the purse out and quickly counted the coins and bills. Twenty dollars. It would be enough to get him a room at the inn in the town— if they’d rent him a room— and a place on a coach back to New York but it wouldn’t be enough to get him to Virginia.

“In or out,” the guard at the gate said loudly.

Alexander looked up and saw him reaching for the gate.

“Out.” He hurried through and looked at the barren fields surrounding the garrison. He turned back to the guard. “Which way is the town?”

The guard pointed to the left.

“Thank you.” Alexander nodded and then hurried away before someone changed their mind and put him back in his cell.

He started along the road toward the village and shoved his hands in his pockets. He needed a plan. He could get himself back to New York City and he had friends there. People who would take him in for a few nights. Perhaps he could convince one of them to loan him the money to travel to Virginia with the promise that he’d repay them when he arrived.

He heard the clatter of horses and looked over his shoulder to see a closed in black carriage coming down the road. He stepped into the grass to give it room to pass and continued walking.

“Whoa!” The driver pulled the horses to a stop beside him and the carriage door flew open.

Alexander turned to stare as George looked out the doorway at him. “What are you—”

“I’ve come to take you home. Where you belong.”

 


End file.
